


Rise of Fear

by MindPrince



Series: Shiftverse [2]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Backstory, Midquel, Not a rewrite, Prequel, Sequel, The last two are only mentioned, i guess, it's kind of all three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindPrince/pseuds/MindPrince
Summary: A certain killer finally decides to share his side of the story, and with it, the truth. At least, his version of it.A side story/midquel for Gravity Shift and my next story. (IMPORTANT PLEASE READ! This is not an attempt to rewrite either version of Jeff the Killer. This is just backstory for my own version.)





	1. Life begins and ends with Woods

My earliest memory is waking up, soaking wet on a cold muddy road in a misty wood. Staring into the concerned eyes of a nun and five children. I guess I was on a road they took to a picnic spot or field they play in. I remember how the Sister stared at me with fear and worry in her eyes. She was afraid of my face, my skin. To this day I'm sure if my feet hadn't been covered in mud she would have found a hunter to shoot me dead. As it was, by the time the Sisters did see them I had been in their care long enough that they forced themselves to overlook it.

  
They brought me to their, not home really. It was one of those convent slash orphanage places. I could never remember the name of them. That's where I spent most of my young life. After a year or so they stopped looking at me like I was going to sprout horns and start breathing fire and started treating me like one of their foundlings. I guess the little ones helped a lot.

  
I liked the kids and they liked me. At first it was a little annoying; they were constantly grabbing at my feet or pulling my mouth open, trying to see what would fit. I got used to it. After all, there really wasn't much for them to do. The Sisters wouldn't school them until they were at least nine or ten; the really little ones often didn't get enough contact. They found their own ways to entertain themselves. Eventually I got attached to them, strongly attached. It got to the point that when a new kid came in they were immediately brought to me. And whenever one passed away I was the last one to stop mourning. Sometimes I never did.

  
I liked wearing the nun's robes. They thought it meant I wanted to join the church and would leave me the "proper ones for boys". But I just liked how they covered me, hid me; every part of me that was wrong to the world. Gone under layers of stern fabric.

  
As I got older they started trying to find me a home; to let me see life outside. So many people came in from all walks of life. But I always came back. A week, a few months, some lasted a year or two, but something always happened that made them bring me back . It was never anything I did; at least nothing I did consciously. They just started to act like. . . they were afraid of me. It would start small; looking past me, ignoring me if they could. Then it got worse. They would start to avoid me; if they couldn't they would run. Eventually they would pack me away like an old toy and bring me back. They made excuses; saying I was picky, contrary, difficult. Anything to make it seem like it was my fault. Every time the Sisters comforted ME, thinking the family wasn't right for me. But it _was_ me.

  
I couldn't help it. I just gave off some sort of, atmosphere, that made people uncomfortable. It affected everyone. Or at least it seemed like it did. The kids were fine with me, after all, and even some of the younger Sisters didn't seem too wary around me. But it still happened. And sometimes, sometimes I saw things too. Things that could see ME, and wanted to talk. I was afraid at first; growing up in a religious environment made me wary of such things, and proper psychiatric care wasn't really a thing at the time. But, like everything else that happened to me; I learned to accept it, even enjoy it.

  
Those creatures saw the world in such different ways. Sometimes they saw it in the same way I did. And some of them I hated. Hated because they would try and get to the children. Why? Why else would a monster want to do that? To hurt them, kill them. I started fighting back and that just made it even harder for me to find a home.

  
In the end the Matron just decided I'd be a permanent fixture in the place and put me in charge of caring for the kids' health. Which was fine by me. I knew what was what around there and how to deal with it. But deep down I still wanted a family of my own. And I got one on the day I turned 14.

  
I didn't think much of them at first. If they were from the local village or town then they knew the stories about me. If they weren't then the Sisters would guide them to the younger kids; the ones who would adapt more easily to a new home. I followed them for a bit, curious. It was a small family; a husband, a wife, and a single son. It struck me as odd, given that large families were the norm at the time. After all, more kids meant more chances for someone to take over from you after you kicked it. The wife had gotten sick with the son and the doctor had to take it all out; uterus, kid and all. So she couldn't have another one herself but really wanted another. More amazing that she was alive to want at all.

  
The parents followed the nuns around. But their son went another way. He went to the wing with the youngest kids. . . and me. I didn't see him coming. I'd long since gone back to help the put youngest in for their naps. I had been resting in the window well, not looking at anything in particular, so he kind of snuck up on me. I panicked and went off on him. Instinct took over and by the time I heard the kids shouting my name I had him dangling off the floor, held by the ankle in something invisible. It was the first time I had done that and no one, least of all me, knew what to think. He did.

  
"That was amazing!" He had the biggest smile I'd seen in a long time.

  
I guess it makes sense that the one person who could understand me, the only one patient enough to learn, was the only one who actually found me. Luis Woods. Even today I feel that old rage at the ones who took him away.

  
After the couple saw how much Luis liked me they took me right away. It didn't matter what the nuns said; they simply refused. The kids said their goodbyes, I admit I cried with a few of them. But inside I was happy. I couldn't wait to see if this was the right place. It was.

  
Like I said, Luis was patient. When I saw something he would sit down and ask about it. He wanted to know more about the world as I experienced it, and that made me feel good. No judgements, no sideways glances; just genuine curiosity. Eventually he began to see my creatures too, and he couldn't have been happier. I was happy too. Now when I suddenly didn't want to go near someplace I'd been perfectly fine with before he knew why, and he would explain to our parents. I think it confused them sometimes but they accepted it, like the fact I preferred dresses that covered me completely, as just eccentricities I picked up at the convent.

  
Our parents did find someone to help me with my self-esteem though. It was an old woman from the outside of town named Magdalene; people called her a fairy doctor. She took one look at me, skin, mouth and all, and called me a sensitive. She sat us all down and explained that because of the way I was born I was attuned to the world of the Other. It made sense at the time; Faeries were attracted to humans that weren't normal. So even though I had a strong suspicion that not everything I saw was a faerie, I accepted the explanation.

  
When I turned 18 we moved. I hadn't seen it but the rest of the family had noticed the fearful glances of the townspeople. They grew worried for my safety so my father found another home for us. It was there that things went wrong; where I discovered what I really was. It was the first time I caused someone to fear me.

  
Where I learned how much I liked causing fear.

  
The town was much bigger, with a separate church and school; they'd been the same building in the last one. Because of that I would be going to school as well. I wasn't exactly excited. Quite the opposite actually. I started getting stomach pains and would vomit often. Lui and I both figured it was nerves and that was that. Neither of us said anything to our parents either. The pain came and went so it didn't seem like an issue. So by the time school actually came around we had both forgotten about it.

  
But, you know something? For all that the stories get wrong, there's one thing they got right. Those three bastard kids. We were in the school yard waiting to be called in. I don't remember their names, serves them right. They went after me, of course, calling me the usual names; freak, monster, hell-spawn. I was used to it so I didn't react; neither did Lui. They didn't like that. They went after Lui. And that's when I felt it. My stomach started burning, then it moved to my head, blinding me. I felt like I was being squeezed for the longest time. And then. . . something came out. In my mind I saw the things that scared them, and I twisted them into things that were nearly unrecognizable. The kind of things your mind creates in your nightmares.

  
Then I set them loose on those three. When my sight cleared they were laying on the ground, twitching and foaming at the mouth; all three were brought to a doctor where it was determined they suffered a severe shock. Two of them passed away from the strain on their hearts that night. The third recovered, mostly, he was brain dead though, had to be fed fluids for the rest of his life. Knowing they had died of their fear was, exhilarating, liberating in a way I never had known. But I kept that to myself. Things were already going wrong; I didn't need to fan the flames.

Besides, the stomach pain was gone and my brother was safe; that's all I cared about.

  
No one at the schoolyard would say what happened afterwards; they didn't understand it. But it wasn't long before accusations of witchcraft started to float around; drifting in my direction. It took a week for those pathetic people to work up the courage, but when they did, everything fell apart.

  
They came during the night, expecting me to be there. I wasn't. I had met a rather odd man in the woods and lost track of time talking to him. When I returned I saw the ruin they brought. The door had been broken down, everything we owned was burning on the lawn. Wordlessly, I stepped inside, the smoke and ash burned my eyes more than the pain in my stomach had. I ran to my parents room, begging them to be safe.

  
At least they hadn't suffered; both had been beheaded in their sleep. I ran to Luis and found him alive, but barely. I went to pick him up, wanting to take him to a doctor, but he stopped me; a single hand on my cheek. I remember how he smiled at me, as if he knew this would happen. I remember the tears falling on him as he told me it wasn't my fault.

  
I buried my family as the sun rose; in the churchyard. Damn whatever the people felt, I wanted them to rest in sacred ground, and I wanted them to stay there. As the dirt covered my brother I felt a single hand on my shoulder. I looked to find a strange creature beside me; dressed in the garb of a deacon with a bloodied lamb's head on its shoulders. I wasn't sure what to think of it until I saw it pull a bible from it's robes. With a soft, smooth voice it read the last rites to my family, blessing their resting place and swearing to protect them as it did for all others laid to rest here. It would be years before I learned what that creature had been. A Church Grim; performing its sacred duty, and choosing to go the extra mile to comfort one of its kin.

  
I spent as long as I could there before leaving. I didn't want to give those bastards in town any more ammunition to use against my family. So I ran to the forest, lived there among the trees and the spirits until that wretched town fell to ruin with the ages. As it passed so did I. With a little help I found a place to rest, not permanently, but just until I was ready to face the world again.


	2. Making a life in death; the truth of the Faceless Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our friend crosses the Pond and incites a paranormal incident that goes down in history.

When I woke up everything was different. There were so many more people. But there was still pain. Still fear. I remember smiling. I could protect the children and spread the fear that I now craved.

  
Then I made a mistake.

  
He was the CEO of some big shot company, I never bothered to learn the name, what mattered was the company had a fund they put together from a chunk of each year's earnings. He'd been skimming from that fund for years. Why was that important? At the end of the year it was donated as a lump sum to a children's hospital in the area. He was depriving kids of money that could save them. I wasn't about to let that slide, so I followed him back to where he lived. A penthouse in an upscale apartment building. That just pissed me off more.

  
I waited until dark to make my move. Using a streetlight as a springboard I jumped up the building, hit just above the fourth floor, and climbed the rest of the way; using the shadowed alleyway between the buildings to stay hidden. I found his bedroom window and waited for him to go to sleep. Then I knocked, softly at first, then harder until I was pounding on it. Just as I thought, he jumped out of bed and ran to the window, throwing it open and looking around. I had climbed above the window, he never thought to look up.

  
When he closed the window I did it again. I kept doing it until he was so frustrated he slipped up. He turned away without closing it. In a blink I had grabbed hold of him and was pulling him through the window. He was a large man, not in the sense that he was fat but broad, the sort that likely played some sort of college sport. The window wasn't quite wide enough. As I pulled him through I felt something inside him crack. His chest collapsed, he came out and I let him fall. I remember watching him drop 5 stories to the ground. The mess he made when he hit. . . it was beautiful. I can still see it when I close my eyes.

  
But someone had seen me. Suddenly there were pictures everywhere of me. They weren't clear but it was enough. I had police after me everywhere. That didn't deter me though; I continued killing. For the sake of the children I had to. I became a legend wherever I went. During my time in, what I considered to be, my home country, I picked up some names that I still carry to this day. I was called a roof-walker in Scandinavia and its neighbors, and people throughout England were scared of the Pale Knocker; who struck in the night and killed sinners of all kinds, knocking on their windows to announce their death. The fear caused by all this had its benefits. Fewer children were harmed, making things much easier for me. For once I could relax.

  
At least until I came to America. I was devastated by what I found. Children in factories, used and traded like cattle; barely mourned when the work killed them. It was enraging. But I couldn't stand around and let it consume me. I had work to do. I traveled from one side of the country to the other; legends spreading about me just as quickly as they had before. But legends didn't stop the police. Wherever I made a claim they were on me, keeping me on the move. What powers I knew I had made it almost impossible for them to catch me.

  
I say almost because they came very close once. That was when I learned just how far my power over the strange went, and what I could do with them. It happened in a small town in Illinois; a little place called Mattoon. I think you know what incident I'm referring to.

  
It happened after I took out a rather well known doctor a few miles north. They had been euthanizing children. Now normally I'm not against that; it's a way of saving the ones who wouldn't make it anyway. This doctor was not doing that, however. She was doing it because she could, she lusted for that power and used it like a drug. So I killed her. Nothing fancy about it; I just went in, stabbed her and moved on. This was before I started painting a smile at my killings, just as a way to tease folks. The police still recognized my work though, and tracked me to Mattoon where they worked with the force there to block me in. I was trapped. Every road and walkway in and out of town was covered. If I was getting out then I needed a distraction.

  
It was while I was keeping low in a backyard that it hit me. The stomach pain was back; pressing into my head like before. This time I knew what it meant and started looking for somewhere to put it. You know how horror movies sometimes show the point of view of the monster? Where the screen kind of turns reddish around the edge and it zooms around stalking people? It was a lot like that. For me it helped me find the couple inside. I didn't look at their fear though. I created something of my own. If you know the story then you know what they experienced. A sweet smelling gas, the man vomiting and fainting, the wife being paralyzed. But none of it was real; I created it all. I was almost scared of myself when I saw that. Then I put it to use.

  
One family wouldn't be enough. I needed this to spread. I needed it to be more recognizable. So that's what I did; I made it more than a gas, I created a person to wield it. Then I sent my gasser after a few other houses; this time with a special addition. Basically, I turned it into a psychic virus. As soon as the affected told their story, then the one they told would experience it. I thought a small panic would be enough to give me a way out. I didn't expect one of the families to go to the media though. The report went out over the air, and just like that my gasser was everywhere. People were seeing it at their windows at the same time in different houses, some even reported it IN their house. What I had hoped for was a few concentrated incidents for the police to focus on; what I got was a mass hysteria that went down in the history books.

  
Either way it was fine. With officials trying to keep things from boiling over I skipped out. The gasser eventually faded away; people stopped reporting it. I guess without me there it didn't have a source to draw from and couldn't exist. After that I decided to drop off the map for awhile; I was drawing too much attention with my killings, and I wasn't sure if I could pull off another trick like that. At least not so soon. So I headed North again. This time I made my way to a little valley in the Canadian wilderness.

  
There I found my first real family in years; a pack of huge wolves, led by a female with a striking sky-blue coat. If I remember right the wolves were called Waheela; except the female. She was Morgra, the self-titled Queen of All Wolves. She moved from pack to pack as she wished, leading them for a time before moving on. I stayed with them for several years, learning and bonding with the forests and their life. I met the strange man here several times. I was less afraid of him, even challenging him multiple times; it rarely went well for me, but it helped toughen me up. I think that's what he was aiming for.

  
About the man. I think he and I are something similar. I was able to learn a few things from him when we fought. I hadn't been strong enough or aware enough to see them but after spending time with him I found that what I though was some sort of telekinesis was actually these. . . tentacle things. He had them too, and he showed me a lot about how to use them. But I eventually learned why he was there. I thought we could be friends but, he hunted children. Took them away to do who knows what. He was everything I hated. So I challenged him one last time.

  
The fight only lasted a few minutes, and ended with me impaled on a branch as the forest burned. But he didn't get off lightly. Before I blacked out I remember seeing him limp away, bleeding. If creatures like him were hunting children then I needed a way to get to them faster. Something HE couldn't use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waheela belong to Canadian folklore. Morgra is a cross of the Blue Wolf from "They Still Remember" on youtube and a character from the book "The Sight".


	3. Rift and Sigil: the Book of Monsters

I found it one summer in the Midwest. A little kid had found me after the Faceless Man got the better of me in an ambush. She took care of me, and I kind of got attached to her. The parents were alright, no danger there, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen soon. That something came in a way I would never have expected. The family moved around a lot. I guess the dad's job required it. Anyway after one move the kid got sick and wasn't allowed out of the house; had to spend a lot of time in bed. There wasn't much I could do to keep her occupied, 'specially since her mom kept coming in the room with medicine and stuff. So I just spent most of the time talking to her from under her bed. Kinda funny how her parents never checked under there.

  
Anyways, I was taking a nap down there when the kid woke me up. She said some weird thing had tried to talk to her, saying something about monsters and how it would fight them for her; it made her scared so she told it to leave. So then she wanted me to be awake in case it came back. So I stayed up and, sure enough, it came scampering in from the window. It looked like some kind of patchwork doll; if the person who made it was colorblind. It got on the bed and told her there was a monster under her bed, me obviously, and that, if she gave it a tooth he would fight me off. And it would stay and keep fighting if she gave it more teeth. I could tell that was a bullshit deal right off the bat. Thankfully, my kid was smart and didn't go along with any of it. When it finally got too persistent I grabbed it by the head and brought it down to the kitchen. I held it over the garbage disposal and told it point blank, "If you go near that kid again, I will drop you in here feet first so I can watch the life drain from your beady little eyes."

  
He got outta dodge pretty quick after that. The kid recovered and things were calm; eventually the family moved again. Even though she wanted me to come with I knew it wouldn't be good for either of us in the long run. To keep her safe I decided to try wiping myself from her memory. I meant to get both me and that thing but I wasn't as good at removing strange things from minds as I was at putting them there; I did my best though. I guess she remembered the little weirdo though since she eventually put up the story online. You've probably read it. I did. I found other stories too. About what happened to the kids who fell for it and gave it teeth.

  
The next time I see that thing it's going to wish I dropped it down the sink.

  
But back to the point. I stayed in the empty house for about a week. On the third day I went down to the basement since it was getting hot. While looking around I opened a door at random. Rather than leading to another part of the cellar it lead to some sort of blank place. A path of light lead to another door on the far side, and I wound up going through it. This door brought me to someplace full of broken dolls. I decided to keep going; just to see what else I could find. After a few more doors I opened one that spat me out at, of all places, The Louvre. It was pretty shocking. But I started experimenting with it, and found out I had a pretty good grasp of how to navigate it. I also found it was called the Rift. At least, that's what it called itself. A living dimension is a pretty cool concept, and I'm pret-ty glad this one, if it didn't like me, tolerated me. Enough to use it as a home base, even.

  
So there it was; I had my way of getting around faster than the Faceless Man, now I just needed to figure out how to find the kids who needed me. Thankfully, this weird inter-dimensional highway I'd found seemed happy to help me out. It gave me a door that opened on a library. The place was absolutely silent and nearly abandoned. Nearly, because it was occupied by an old man. The man gave me two things before tossing me out on my ass. A book and a piece of paper listing the method of creating special, magical marks. I used it to my advantage. Creating a sign that would represent both myself and way to call me. "Remove from me those who would cause me harm in body, mind, and soul." That was the meaning of the sigil I made. I put a piece of myself inside it so I would know both where it was placed, and the intent of the one who drew it; those who created it with selfish intent were ignored, at first. Some kept doing it so I had to start punishing them, as much as I hated it.

  
I spread the sigil as well as I could with what I had; dreams and hearsay. Soon after the internet took care of it for me. Maybe you've seen it around.

  
The book, however, took me longer to figure out. At first it was just blank; no matter how or what way I opened it. I even tried making a sacrifice to it, that just caused a mess. Then I met the Faceless Man again. Or, at least who I thought was him. It turned out to be a different one, one with a kinder sentiment towards children. He was, essentially, shy, despite being so flamboyant and colorful; never really understood that. We got along a lot better, and I still go to see him now and again.

  
He makes friends with the kids who have problems with their brains. The ones who have to stay in special hospitals, you know? He said it was easier to do that because the adults would think he was just part of the brain issue and wouldn't try to find him. Plus, some of those kids were just kinda dumped there by parents who didn't want them. Which pissed me off so I asked him to put my sigil around the place for those kids.

  
After meeting him (he said the children called him the Splendorman) I decided to try the book again on a lark. To my surprise it opened on a page showing him, and others of his kind. Neither he nor the Faceless Man were individual creatures, I learned, but part of a ancient Fae species that was spread all over the globe. That was how the book worked. As long as I had a creature in mind it would show me, otherwise it was blank. Pretty cool gift, right?

  
_He yawned and stretched, back cramping from sitting still so long. "So that's pretty much everything. At least as much as I remember. Will this all be going in those reports of yours?"_

  
_The doctor stood, startling the butterflies that had settled on both of them. "Not the main report, but yes it will be a part of your file." He stood and helped the other from his chair. Then he escorted him to similar room with a basic bed in the corner. "You'll be staying in this room for now. We start official testing tomorrow, 4140"_

  
_"Don't call me that." he said, somberly. "My parents named me Jeff so please use it." He looked up at him sadly. "I'm a living being after all."_

  
_"Just following procedure, kid. But, alright then. I'm Kondraki." He reached out a hand. Jeff shook it gingerly. "I look forward to working with you Jeffery."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stories referenced: Ickbar Bigglestein (creepypasta), Splendorman (Neil Cicierega), The Blind Man (fear mythos). Fun fact, the rift was inspired by the Rabbit Holes in "OH GOD THE RAPTURE IS BURNING" and yes that's the actual title.


End file.
